So Unfair
by DarkAngelElektra
Summary: -FEW SHOT- It started out as two former champions commiserating over drinks...but by the end of the night, it had become something more. Batista/Mickie
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I got the idea for this few-shot after what happened at the end of this past Monday Night Raw. I'm sorry, I love Jericho, I was a Jericholic LONG before I was anything else--but what happened on Monday was absolutely RETARDED. Anyway, what better way to take out my frustrations than through the written word? Hopefully, you'll enjoy it. Peace!**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing and no one in this story**

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**So Unfair**

Chapter 1: The Proposal

Dave Batista ran a hand over his shaved head, growling under his breath. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this angry. Okay, maybe that was a lie. He could remember plenty of times when he'd been this angry, and most of them had involved losing the World Heavyweight Championship. Barely two weeks after winning the title for the fourth time, the Animal had become a _former_ World Champion, thanks to a goddamn technicality.

"He fell off the fuckin' cage," Batista muttered to himself. "Fucker hit me in the head and then fell off the fuckin' cage." His fingers grazed the bandage covering his forehead. This particular wound had come courtesy of Chris Jericho and a steel ring. It was nowhere near the worst injury he had ever received (the torn tricep topped _that_ list) but its very presence infuriated him, reminding him how his championship reign had slipped through his fingers with the evanescent quality of smoke. And all because some asshole had dictated long ago that you could win a title by falling off a cage.

The Animal gritted his teeth. He had put up with this shit on SmackDown for the better part of a year thanks to Edge, Vickie Guerrero and the rest of La Familia. When he had been drafted to Raw at the end of June, he had thought his days of pointlessly chasing the title had ended. But then Jericho had stepped in and become Champion through unbelievable luck and coincidence, and had used said luck and coincidence to hold onto the title.

Just as he had tonight.

Batista made a fist with his free hand, clenching it so hard that it almost hurt. "Fucker fell off the fuckin' cage," he reiterated for good measure. He heard a noise behind him, the soft sound of someone clearing their throat, and whirled around, taking a step forward.

Mickie James practically leapt back, a small shriek of surprise escaping her mouth. "Jesus Christ, you scared me!" she exclaimed.

The Animal glared at her for a second. "Didn't anyone ever teach you not to sneak up on people?" he demanded.

Mickie tilted her head to the side, raising one eyebrow. "Riiight," she drawled, her tone sarcastic. "Like anyone would be crazy enough to sneak up on you."

Batista didn't have an answer for that, so instead, he just snapped his mouth shut. The two of them stood there in silence for several long moments before the former Women's Champion spoke again. "Listen, um…" The Raw Diva ran one hand through her long brown hair, her eyes drifting off to the side. "A bunch of us are heading out to the bar…I was wondering if you'd like to join us."

The Animal stared at her for a heartbeat or two, his mouth curling up in a bitter half-smile. "Thanks, but I'm not really in the mood for socializing right now."

"Well, then, how about just joining me?" Mickie's boldness was enough to shock Batista into silence, and the former Women's Champion rushed on. "It's not like I'm asking you out or anything—it's just…I saw your match…and I figured you wanted someone to talk to." She started to say something else, then stopped.

"And?" Batista prompted, his voice less harsh than it had been earlier.

Mickie looked toward him, meeting his eyes once again. "_And_…I know a little something about getting screwed out of a title."

She had him there. Now the Animal was the one to look off to the side, his expression transforming from guarded to almost thoughtful. After a long pause, he glanced back at the Raw Diva and nodded. "All right…you got yourself a date."

_**To Be Continued…**_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you to **AshlynnxHearts, NastyGrl25, The Hardy Boyz are hot **and **Queen of Destruction2 **for reviewing the first chapter! You guys are awesome! Hopefully, you'll enjoy this one!

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Chapter 2: Just Friends

The Animal eased his massive frame onto the barstool. The bartender—who looked like he was barely out of high school—stared at him expectantly. "What'll it be?"

"A beer," Batista answered brusquely, clasping his hands together and resting them on the counter.

"Make that two," Mickie's voice chimed in. The Animal turned to see the former Women's Champion hop up on the stool next to his. Mickie ran one hand through her long brown hair, pushing it back from her face. Batista noted with some amusement that the bartender had not moved, but remained in place, his eyes glued to the brunette Diva, his mouth hanging open slightly.

Mickie must have felt his gaze on her, because she glanced up. "What? Do I have something on my face?" she asked. The bartender snapped his mouth closed, his face flushing a deep red. Without a word, he scurried off to procure their drinks.

The former Women's Champion chuckled, a low husky sound. "I swear to God—ten bucks says that once he comes back here, he's going to say I look familiar, and hasn't he seen me somewhere before?" She looked over, noticing the expression on the Animal's face. "What? Is it because I ordered beer?" Mickie shook her head. "Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I automatically order something pink and fruity. Besides…beer's cheaper."

Now it was Batista's turn to shake his head. "No, nothing like that…just wondering if you always talk this much." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he winced at how clipped they sounded.

The expression that flashed across Mickie's face, however, was not one of hurt, but of embarrassment. "Sorry," she apologized, a tad sheepishly. "When I get nervous, I tend to talk a lot."

The Animal started to ask why on earth she might be nervous when the bartender returned with two bottles of beer in hand. He set them down in front of the two Superstars, then hesitated, his attention focused on Mickie again. "Sorry to bother you," he began apologetically. "But you look familiar. Have you been in here before?"

The brunette Diva flashed him a brilliant smile. "Many times," she replied, and before Batista knew what was happening, Mickie reached over and placed her hand over both of his. As soon as she did, the bartender's face fell a little in disappointment and he hurried away, presumably in search of other paying customers.

The Animal glanced down at Mickie's hand covering his, then back up at her face, a questioning expression on his own. The Raw Diva guiltily removed her hand, reaching across the bar to grasp the brown bottle of beer and pull it toward her. "He is going to be hitting on me all night," she finally responded by way of explanation. "If he comes back over here, could you just pretend to be my boyfriend?" A devilish glint appeared in her brown eyes and she grinned impulsively. "I'll take that in lieu of the ten bucks you owe me."

Batista couldn't help but laugh at her comment. "Hey, no fair!" he answered in mock protest. "You had that guy pegged from the second you sat down."

Mickie shrugged. "Hey, when you spend half your week getting ogled by horny guys, you tend to learn a thing or two about men."

The Animal chuckled. "Can't say I've ever had that problem." He nodded in the direction of the bartender. "But in his defense…I don't blame him for staring." As that last sentence rolled off his tongue, his gaze drifted over and met Mickie's. In that moment, a look passed between them, an understanding that temporarily pulled down all the emotional barriers between them. Just as quickly, though, those barriers slammed back into place, and the two of them quickly glanced away.

Mickie cleared her throat. "So…" she began, her voice both cautiously cheerful. "How about that match tonight, huh?"

Batista sighed, grateful at least for the irritation that flooded through him at the mention of the night's main event. The emotion was a distraction, momentarily blotting out the memory of Mickie's brown eyes, of the light highlighting the soft curves of her face…"I don't really want to talk about it," he muttered, taking a generous swig from his beer bottle.

The former Women's Champion looked down at the counter, rolling the bottle back and forth between her palms. When she spoke again, her tone was tentative. "The first time I faced Lita…she hit me in the head with the championship belt."

The comment was so unexpected that the Animal was lost for words. He looked over at Mickie, who stared back at him, her expression slightly challenging. Batista took another long sip from his beer, his eyes never leaving her face. "When I faced Booker T at SummerSlam…Sharmell got involved and caused a disqualification."

Mickie took a sip before continuing. "Lumberjack match…Melina grabbed my foot and tripped me up."

The corner of the Animal's mouth twitched in a smile. "Two words--_La Familia_."

"Two more words," the brunette Diva countered, a smile touching her own mouth. "_Santino Marella_."

At the thought of the self-proclaimed Milan Miracle, both of them burst into laughter. "Oh my God!" Mickie exclaimed, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "Remember that night when you told him that _Beth_ could have a title shot if she wanted one?"

"What can I say?" Batista answered, trying to catch his breath in between chuckles. "You can put lipstick on a pig, but at the end of the day—"

"--_It's still a pig_." Mickie chimed in with him. "The look on Beth's face—I thought I was going to pee myself, I was laughing so hard." This sparked another round of giggles, and several minutes passed before either one of them was able to get themselves under control.

The former Women's Champion swung her stool around, turning to fully face the Animal. "I feel like this is that scene from Jaws when they're sitting around the table showing off their shark bites." She pointed at Batista. "Admit it—you were, like, two seconds away from taking off your shirt and showing me your surgery scar."

"Hey, don't knock that," the Animal joked. "How do you think I get girls? Women dig the scar."

Mickie leaned toward him a little, lowering her voice, so that Batista had to strain to hear her. "So…do I get to see the scar?" Her tone was teasing, but there was a flirtatious edge to it that made her comment anything but.

The Animal leaned forward as well, acutely aware of their close proximity. From this distance, he could smell the scent of perfume rising off of her skin. His voice, when he spoke, held the same seductive undertone as hers. "Do you want to?"

For a moment, the outside world hushed into silence, leaving only the two of them. Then, a subtle change came over Mickie's expression and she leaned back, turning away from Batista. "Maybe later," she replied, picking up her drink and taking a huge sip.

The Animal gazed at her for a second or two, still frozen in that position of anticipation. Finally, with a silent sigh, he straightened up, turning back toward the bar as well. He picked up his bottle, but didn't drink; merely tilted it back and forth, watching the light glint off the glass. "Hey, Mick, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Maybe it was just his imagination, but Mickie's voice seemed to have taken on a huskier tone, as though she was trying to hold back emotion.

Batista looked over at her, setting his beer bottle back on the counter. "Why'd you ask me here?" His voice was blunt, so blunt that it almost made her cringe. The Animal continued. "I mean, there's gotta be a ton of people on the roster who are better company than me. So…why me?"

The Raw Diva was silent for several long moments. She put down her bottle, lacing her fingers together and propping her chin up on her hands. She didn't look at Batista. "You know that we're just friends, right? That this isn't a date or anything—"

"Mickie," The Animal's voice was still blunt, but there was an affectionate tone to it that softened his words. "That wasn't what I asked."

The former Women's Champion didn't reply. Instead, she stared straight ahead, studying the array of liquor bottle arranged neatly behind the bar. Next to her, she heard Batista sigh. "Listen, I'm going to the bathroom, but when I get back…I want an answer to my question. A _real_ answer." She heard him rising from the stool, and then he was gone, disappearing into the crowd.

Mickie let her breath out slowly. With both hands, she finger-combed her long hair back from her face. The truth was that she didn't _have_ an answer. Tonight, when she'd first approached the Animal and asked him to join her, she'd thought it would be nothing more than two former champions bemoaning their losses over drinks. She'd never expected to touch his hand and _feel _ something.

Or to look into his eyes and realize that whatever she was feeling, it was mutual.

The brunette Diva didn't get a further opportunity to mull this over, however, as a new voice intruded on her thoughts: "Hey, Mick, how's it going?"

Mickie looked up in surprise, and forced a smile onto her face at the sight of the former Tag Team Champion. "Hey, Cody," she replied. "Not too bad; how about you?"

Cody Rhodes swirled the liquid around in his glass before raising it to his lips and draining it. "Great…now that I found you." he answered, his handsome face creasing in a cocky grin.

Mickie felt the corners of her mouth start to hurt from the strain of keeping the smile in place. When the second-generation Superstar had first come to the WWE, the Raw Diva had thought he was sweet, like a puppy dog trying hard to please its master. She had even partnered with him a few times in mixed-tag matches. But once Cody had teamed up with Ted DiBiase Jr., his whole attitude had changed and he now walked around like he was God's gift to women. More than once, he had asked Mickie out, and each time, she had politely turned him down. Of course, unlike right now, she had always had the benefit of being with somebody…

"Lucky me," she answered, hoping that her voice didn't sound strangled. "Listen, Cody, I'm actually with someone right now, so—" But Cody was already easing himself into Batista's empty seat, turning around to face her. He grinned again.

"Finally…I've got you all to myself," he remarked. He frowned a little in disapproval when he noticed the beer bottle in front of her. "Is _that_ all you're drinking? Let me order you a shot…" He raised his hand to signal for the waiter.

"No, really, Cody, I'm fine—" Mickie protested, then fell silent when she felt a large hand come to rest on her shoulder. Cody glanced over, then did a double take at the sight of the Animal, his eyes growing wide.

Batista eyed the second-generation Superstar with mild distaste. He turned his attention to the former Women's Champion. "He bothering you, Mick?"

Mickie looked from Cody to the Animal, relief surging through her body. "No…no, Cody and I were just talking." She gazed back at the former Tag Team Champion. "Isn't that _right_, Cody?"

Cody gulped visibly, his hand closing around his glass. "Listen, um…I just realized…" he stammered. "My friends are waiting for me…I should probably go…see ya around, Mickie." Jumping off the stool, he practically bolted into the crowd of people.

Mickie had difficulty keeping the smile off her face, and when she looked back up at Batista, she saw that he was having the same problem as well. "What's his problem?" she remarked "You would have thought he'd seen a ghost or something."

Batista chuckled. "Damned if I know." He leaned down closer, and Mickie felt a buzz of electricity course through her as his breath grazed her ear. "Listen, it's getting kind of cramped in this place. You want to get out of here and go for a walk or something?"

Mickie stared back at him for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Yeah…yeah, I'd like that," she replied.

Turning back to the bar, she dug in her pocket for her wallet, but the Animal beat her to the punch, laying a twenty-dollar bill on the counter with one hand and gently taking her arm with the other. "My treat." he remarked.

Helping her down off the stool, he led her out of the crowded bar.

_**To Be Concluded...**_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry about the delay; I'm SLOWLY working on updating all my stories. Plus, I had such trouble with this chapter, especially the end. Hopefully, you'll enjoy it.**

**Thank you to **Writinglove101, Sinfully Sined, Ainat, AshlynnXHearts, Queen of Destruction2, The Hardy Boyz are hot, Nastygrl25 **and **karategirl7 **for reviewing the last chapter! You all rock! **

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Chapter 3: A Fair Trade

Despite the fact that it was early November, a balmy breeze blew through the Tampa streets. The small park was a few blocks down from the bar, its gates still open despite the late hour. Worn wooden benches, surrounded by palm trees and smaller tropical shrubs, lined a wide walkway, leading up to a large ornate fountain. Water cascaded downwards, the lights of the nearby avenue streaking it with streams of gold, blue and pink.

Mickie and Batista walked slowly down the path, neither one saying anything. The former Women's Champion crossed her arms over her chest. Batista no longer held onto her arm, but somehow, she could still feel his touch, the residual memory of it burning against her skin. Mickie rubbed her arms briskly; not because she was cold, but because she couldn't stop her nerves from tingling. She kept her eyes on the ground, afraid to open her mouth for fear that the first words out of it would be pure gibberish.

"Beautiful," The Animal's quiet observation snapped the brown-haired Diva out of her reverie, and she looked over, startled.

"What?" she blurted out, wanting to kick herself for how clueless she sounded.

Batista glanced at her with some astonishment, as though surprised his remark had been said aloud. The moment their eyes met, Mickie felt her breath catch in her throat. "The night, I mean," the Animal added after a few seconds pause. "It's a beautiful night…for November…" He trailed off, perhaps realizing that he was painting himself into a verbal corner.

Mickie had no choice but to agree with him; she didn't trust herself with anything more. "Yeah…yeah, it is," she replied, tearing her gaze away from his to look upward at the dark sky. Several more seconds crept by, and the former Women's Champion cleared her throat, hoping to God that she didn't sound awkward. "But then again, you live here, don't you? You must see a lot of nights like this."

"Yeah, but not as nice as this," Batista answered, his eyes still on her. The corner of his mouth curled up in a smile. "Sure beats those D.C. winters. Man, I don't think I could _ever_ go back to that."

In spite of herself, Mickie felt her lips curving upward. "Oh, I hear you. Virginia's not much better—" Her voice trailed off into nothing as she looked over and locked eyes with the former World Champion. A wave of powerlessness swept over her; the feeling that she was not in control of the situation…and kind of liked it. The brunette Diva quickly looked away, focusing on a bench, a shrub, the ground—anything but the Animal's dark eyes.

"Hey, Mick?" Batista's voice was soft, but there was a seriousness to his voice that hadn't been there before. Without realizing it, Mickie ground to a halt, crossing her arms even tighter over her chest. She didn't look at the Animal, knowing that as soon as she did, her heart would leap into her throat and render speech impossible. _Why now_?...she silently chastised herself. _Why did you pick THIS night to start acting like a teenager with a crush?_

"Yeah?" the former Women's Champion answered, pretending to absolutely captivated by a flowering plant looming over the path to her right.

Next to her, she heard the Animal exhale quietly before continuing. "Look, what's going with you? Ever since we left that bar, you've barely said a word, you won't look at me—" He paused for a moment. "If I did something to piss you off, please, just let me know—"

Mickie couldn't stop herself; she spun around, mouth agape, already shaking her head in dissent. "No!" she exclaimed, taking a step toward the former World Champion. "No, it's not you, it's me—" She broke off, comprehending for the first time both her close proximity to Batista and what was on the verge of coming out of her mouth. The brunette Diva turned away, her long hair shielding her face from the Animal's view. "Never mind; it's nothing. Just—just forget I said anything."

"Hey," With one hand, Batista gripped her shoulder, turning her back around to face him. He leaned down, peering into her face. "It's not _nothing_, okay? Whatever you're trying to say—just say it. I'd rather have that than the silent treatment."

For a few long moments, Mickie literally couldn't speak; she was too mesmerized by his eyes, by the sharp angles of his face, so close to hers. She felt the words bubbling up inside her, and before she could check herself, they exploded outward like an eruption of lava.

"I like you, okay?" the former Women's Champion blurted out, her words pouring out in a rush of syllables. She pulled back from the Animal, running both hands through her long golden-brown hair. "God, I know I'm going to sound like a total stalker for saying this—but I've liked you for a long time. I mean…when you first came to Raw, it took me three weeks to work up the nerve to introduce myself, just because I was so terrified that the first words out of my mouth would be: 'Hi, I'm Mickie James; I used be a psycho.'"

She took another step back from Batista, looking off toward the fountain as she spoke. "I know…that we don't have anything in common. You're a four-time World Champion…and I'm just another Diva. But after tonight's match—I was furious, but at the same time, I was also kind of happy because you and I finally had something we could both relate to. You know?"

Mickie rushed on before the Animal could comment. She had to get this all out—or she would never be able to work up the nerve to say it again. "I thought that tonight, we could go out and I could get to know you and maybe, this crush would go away. But after being here, with you—" She stopped for a second to collect herself, then continued, lifting her gaze up to meet his. "I _know_ that it's just a crush, but it feels real. And I _know_ that it doesn't mean anything, and that after tonight, we'll go back to having nothing to do with each other—but I don't want it to stop." Tears formed in her eyes, threatening to spill over her lower lashes. Her voice fell to a husky whisper. "I don't want it to stop," she repeated.

In reality, she and Batista only stood there staring at each other for a second, but to Mickie, it seemed to stretch on and on into eternity. The brown-haired Diva abruptly turned away before the Animal could see the first tears trickling down her cheeks. "Excuse me," she managed to say before striding off in the direction of the fountain.

Batista watched her go without saying anything. The former Women's Champion sank down onto the ledge of the fountain, her back to him. Her shoulders moved up and down slightly. It took the Animal a few seconds to realize that she was crying and trying not to. In that moment, logic ceased to mean anything to Batista; all that mattered was the call of his heart.

And—and unlikely as it might seem—his heart was leading him directly to Mickie James.

Without hesitating another second, the former World Champion closed the distance between him and Mickie, halting just a foot away from her. The brunette Diva froze, but didn't turn around; only stared at the rippling water and the coins glimmering below its surface.

"Two things:" The Animal paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "One…you're not a psycho." Mickie's shoulders jumped in what might have been a laugh, but she still didn't turn around. "Two…" Batista stepped closer and reached down, taking her chin gently in his hand and turning her face toward him. His heart twisted painfully at seeing the tearstains on her cheeks. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and gentle, uttering only seven short words: "I don't want it to stop, either."

At this, Mickie's beautiful face sagged in shock, her mouth dropping open. Putting both hands on her face, the Animal gently pulled up to her feet, brushing away her tears with his thumb. Leaning closer, he placed a soft kiss on one cheek, then the other. A soft sigh escaped Mickie's lips. Batista moved lower, kissing the corner of her mouth, then finally, covering her lips with his own.

The kiss was sensual, intense, locking both of them away in a place where the rest of the world could not intrude. For those few precious seconds, Chris Jericho, Beth Phoenix, a steel cage, the Championship—none of it mattered. All that mattered was the two of them.

They eventually pulled apart, both of them gasping slightly for breath. Batista held her face in his hands, resting his forehead against hers and closing his eyes. Her skin felt petal-soft beneath his fingertips.

"It's so unfair," Mickie spoke up suddenly, breaking the silence. She sounded like her old self again.

Surprised at her choice of words, the Animal opened his eyes and pulled back, staring quizzically at the former Women's Champion. "What do you mean?"

Mickie gazed up at him, a smile on her lips, humor sparkling in her eyes. "I mean, you had to lose a championship to end up here with me."

Batista stared back at her affectionately, his mouth curving into a smile of his own. "Oh, I don't know," he remarked, his tone amused, but with a serious undertone. "Between me and Jericho…I think I got the better end of the deal."

With that, he leaned down to kiss her again, and Mickie kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her slender body against his.

As they embraced, the Animal thought to himself that, in a night where so much had gone wrong, he was indeed lucky to have found something—and _someone_—that was _right_.

**_THE END_**


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